heaven let your light shine down
by sodium-amytal
Summary: "Now can you focus on the whole sex thing we're doing here, or did you want me to shut the blinds too? A bird might fly by and look at us." Joey and Chandler get, uh, creative to thwart the summer heat. Unrepentant smut with a bit of fluff. S4. Established Relationship.


"I'm so hot," Chandler groans, spooning out another bite of ice cream from the pint he's sharing with Joey.

Joey grins. "Yeah, you are."

"That's like the third time you've made that joke _today_. If you don't stop I'm revoking your ice cream privileges." Chandler points at him with his spoon in a particularly menacing way.

Joey just pouts like Chandler is the absolute worst.

It's currently about five-thousand degrees in Manhattan today, and it feels like double that in their apartment. Even with the help of three fans blowing air throughout the living room, Chandler still feels like he's in a sauna. "How're the girls handling the heat?"

"Pretty good, considering their A/C's not broken," Joey says.

Chandler groans harder and looks down at his threadbare t-shirt and boxer shorts. "I can't take off any more clothes without making things weird."

"Uh, hello?" Joey gestures to his own nearly-naked body. "All I got on's underwear. How do you think I feel?"

"Surprisingly comfortable?" Chandler snaps, because only Joey is totally unfazed by walking around in various states of undress. Joey sticks his spoon into the ice cream that's already melting from the heat and steals another bite. "_Du-ude_! Did you just steal my cookie dough piece?"

"I didn't see your name on it."

Chandler sections out a humongous scoop of ice cream and stuffs it into his mouth. "Ha!" he manages, his mouth full.

Joey rolls his eyes at Chandler's theatrics and goes in for another bite. His spoon scrapes the bottom of the container. "Aw, man!"

"How're you gonna stay cool now?" Chandler taunts, his mouth still occupied with delicious ice cream. He is absolutely _loving_ how many cookie dough bites were in that giant scoop.

"Well," Joey says, and Chandler does not like the devious little grin at the corners of his mouth, "we could have sex." Chandler lifts an eyebrow, unable to fully question this suggestion. "I mean, if we're gonna be all sweaty anyway, we might as well earn it, y'know?" Chandler continues to fix Joey with a skeptical stare. "And when we're done, we can take a cold shower together."

Chandler swallows enough to sound halfway coherent. "Am I crazy, or does that actually sound enticing?"

#

They're on the couch together, the blinds and drapes drawn open because Joey wants to see the way Chandler's body looks in the glow of summer, the way the sunlight casts a halo around his head as he moves his hips to match the way Joey's thrusting up inside of him. Faint music plays through a static-y radio behind Joey's head, but he can barely hear it over the absolutely obscene sounds Chandler's making. This is the hottest fucking thing Joey's ever been a part of, but he can't fully appreciate it because that goddamn porcelain dog behind Chandler is giving him the skeeves.

Chandler's grinding down around the hilt of Joey's dick when Joey finally speaks up. "Chandler, Chandler, baby," he groans, half-drunk off the heat and their raw, mutual need sizzling on his skin.

Chandler bites his lower lip, digs his fingers in where they're gripped around Joey's thighs to stop himself. "What?"

"I feel like he's lookin' at me!" Joey whines, gesturing to the statue. "At least turn 'im around or somethin'."

"To his credit, he seems like he's trying not to look." Joey huffs irritation, so Chandler leans over and grabs his shirt off of the floor. Then he bends backwards—Joey appreciates the sight—and drapes the t-shirt over the dog's eyes and snout. "There," he sighs out, straightening his spine and smirking down at Joey. "Now can you focus on the whole sex thing we're doing here, or did you want me to shut the blinds too? A bird might fly by and look at us."

Joey frowns at Chandler's sass. "I'm totally focused." He trails his fingers over the jutting bones of Chandler's hips, then he's back in orbit as they move together. Chandler bends forward and lays his hands over Joey's chest, dipping down to kiss his mouth. His knees slide over the leather. Joey licks his mouth open, reaches up to tangle his fingers in the dampness of Chandler's hair. Chandler hums contentment into the kiss and leans his arm against the couch behind Joey's head, giving himself more leverage to push his hips back.

Joey makes a graceless sound around Chandler's mouth, digs his fingers into Chandler's fleshy hips. Chandler shoves back, grinding into Joey's thrusts, and Joey loves the way Chandler tries to speak before his words are subsumed in a gasp. Joey curls a leg over Chandler's own, heel pressing at the juncture behind his knee, and groans something like, "God, fuck me, please," at Chandler's ear. He rolls his hips, feeling needy and wide open and desperate.

Chandler pushes himself up, perched on Joey's dick like a king atop a throne, and smirks down at him. "Is that what you want?" he asks, his voice thick with amusement. The words drip out like hot wax. Joey nods, wets his lips, spreads his legs as wide as he can. Chandler climbs off of him and settles between his legs, pressing the head of his cock in.

"Chandler, c'mon, please," Joey begs, squirming his hips to try to fit him inside.

Chandler breathes out something in the area of a laugh and slides in, already slick with sweat, and Joey thumps his head back against the arm of the couch. His legs raise up to hook over Chandler's shoulders, and Chandler grabs his thighs to drive in deeper. Joey moans like he's dying, because Chandler's dick fills him up so perfectly, and the air is so thick and hot and wet he can barely breathe. Under the glare of sunlight, Joey can see the way Chandler's fingers dig in around his thighs, the way his teeth capture his lower lip when he fucks into him hard enough to make Joey's ass lift off the couch.

Joey's saying Chandler's name like a chanted prayer, and Chandler wraps his hands around Joey's ass to tilt his hips; when he thrusts in again Joey feels a goddamn amazing orgasm building at the base of his spine. He claws at the leather before his fingers catch on Chandler's thighs, and he forces his hips to still so Chandler can split him open and take him apart bit by bit with each thrust. Joey's shaking and whimpering and moaning at this point, and Chandler fucks in and in until he's gone, spilling hot and wet inside of Joey as his hips slow to a stop. He's gripping Joey's thighs tight, like they're the only thing keeping him from floating away. Joey reaches down—because he's going to fucking _explode_ if he doesn't come _right now_—but Chandler snatches his wrist away and dips his tongue in Joey's navel; Joey groans, watching Chandler lick a line down his body until—

_Oh, holy fucking Christ._

Joey feels the hot stab of Chandler's tongue, mouth lapping and sucking and stroking inside of him, and that's it, that's so far past it he can't even make words anymore. Joey comes in one long pull, and he feels Chandler grin against his flesh, his tongue still licking him open in sloppy strokes. He sighs, woozy from the heat and the post-orgasm lassitude, while Chandler climbs up his body and licks at the puddles of cum in Joey's navel and over his belly.

Chandler raises his head, smacks his lips. "I think you liked that. He crawls into Joey's lap and kisses his mouth. Joey kisses him back, drags his mouth over his jaw and flicks his tongue out to taste the smear of cum on Chandler's chin.

"Yeah." Joey's mouth curves into a smile over the pulse in Chandler's throat. Even in the summer swelter, he'd rather just lie here with Chandler and appreciate the way the mid-afternoon sun glows golden on their skin. Chandler settles over him and lays his head against the curve of Joey's neck, reaching to turn up the radio. Joey sighs contentedly, closing his eyes and curling his arms around Chandler's waist.

He really doesn't mind the heat anymore.


End file.
